About Me

I'm a fifty-something male, born and raised in Virginia. Finally found my soul mate at the age of forty three after 2 strike outs and some ugly trips to the plate. I love to play golf, pool, the guitar and poker. I've also become a cyclist. I also love to make things out of wood. I'm currently employed as a sales training director for a health care distributor. I have four kids at various stages of life and plenty of good friends. I also have some friendly acquaintances that are part of my life, too. Sometimes, it's funny and sometimes it's sad but it's always entertaining. And I'm very glad to be here enjoying it.
Why this blog? Well, I'm happier with my life than I've been since I was about 8 years old and I'd like to tell others why just in case they decide they'd like to be that happy, too.

Friday, February 12, 2016

The Power of Kindness

Before
I start with this story, I want to tell you it’s that time of year, again. I’m
riding, for the fifth year in a row, in the Tour de Cure of Northern VA. This
is a fundraiser dedicated to funding the discovery of a cure for Diabetes, a
disease that affects nearly every family in America in some way or another. If
you’d like to read my story and, if you’re so inclined, make a donation just
click this link. Much obliged!

I
haven’t been inspired to write very much lately; politics have been dominating
the headlines and the news cycle and I just find it so draining, so exhausting,
and frankly demoralizing. There is rarely anything good to say. I actually
began several posts but gave up because they were too negative and cynical, which
is my go-to mindset when things begin to suck.

Then
I experienced the story I’m about to tell you. It had a profound effect on my
day and I’m thinking that it may have the same effect on the rest of my life.

The
Story - Tampa FL Airport

I
travel a great deal in my job. I consider myself to be a decent traveler, able
to manage the difficulties associated with it, generally with a smile.
Sometimes I see things that make me shake my head. This time it was really
something different.

I
arrived at the airport about ninety minutes before my flight on a shuttle
provided by my company. There were about a dozen of us on the same bus. I
pushed through the doors and headed to the ticket check in counter for American
and, since I knew I’d gotten an upgrade, headed to the First Class line. (This
also serves the Special Needs/purchase tickets group.)

A
man was speaking to a ticket agent in very broken English. He had apparently
just purchased a ticket to Cairo Egypt,

Cairo, Egypt

paying in cash, and was now trying to check
his two large suitcases. Both of them were over the weight limit and, once that
was explained to him and how much extra it would cost, he began removing items
and making quite a pile on the floor; he’d evidently spent all his money on the
ticket home and had no more money. The gate agent asked what he was going to do
with those and he said he would throw them away since he had no more money left
to pay and no other way to get them home.

The
pile of items would have easily filled a normal size suitcase. What was interesting
about them, though, was that they were all brand new. Pants, shirts, shoes and
all with the tags still on them. A bag from JC Penney, another from Target also
filled the pile. His face showed forlorn resignation, and despair, as he
continued to remove items.

Standing
in line in front of me was a man in his fifties, dressed in casual clothes and
wearing a baseball cap. Watching what was happening, he murmured something
about that ‘just not being right’ and then wandered forward and stopped in
front of the gate agent and inquired how much the cost was for the man to check
his bags.

The gate agent told him it was $100.

Benjy

The
man reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, thumbed through it, and
removed a $100 bill. He dropped it on the counter and said, “Please check the
man’s bags to wherever he is going.”

Once
she realized that this man was going to pay the fee, she called out to the
Egyptian man to stop emptying his suitcases and re-pack them. The man didn’t
understand what she was telling him until finally, she managed to explain that
this man standing here had paid for his bags to fly with him. Ballcap smiled
and nodded. The Egyptian man’s face went from dismal to sheer joy in a
millisecond. He stepped toward his benefactor and shook his hand with a fervor
one almost never sees anymore. He was grinning from ear to ear and thanking the
man over and over again.

Ballcap
then said, “Let me help you get these back in your bag.” The two men crouched
down together and repacked the two suitcases. The ticket agent processed the
transaction and things began moving forward, again.

Another
agent appeared and motioned to me to come forward so I could check in and check
my own bag. As I grabbed my ticket and headed off to the gate, the two men were
shaking hands again, both with big smiles.

After
getting through security, I grabbed a cup of coffee and waited for my flight and
thought briefly about what I’d witnessed. It all happened so quickly that I
wasn’t sure exactly what I’d seen. Although I didn't know it, clarity was coming to me soon, however.

The
flight boarded and departed on time. Once we reached 10,000 feet, I reached
into the overhead to retrieve my computer to do some work. As I was sitting
back down, I realized the man with the ballcap was seated across the aisle from
me. I wanted to ask him what happened but didn’t know how to approach him about
it. Plus, he was engaged in conversation with the woman seated next to him.

I
worked for as long as the on-board wifi was working and then shut down and
stowed my laptop, in preparation for landing. I finished reading the news as we
landed and then taxied to the gate. Our flight was early arriving to Charlotte
and we had to wait for a few minutes before going to a gate. Once we got there,
there was a further wait for a ground crew. Since the seatbelt light had gone
off and we were all standing with our bags, waiting to exit, the man with the
ballcap was standing only a foot or so away. We made eye contact after the
flight attendant made a comment to both of us.

I
said, “Excuse me, I saw what you did back at the ticket counter for that man.
Did you know him?”

He
shook his head, no, and smiled again.

I
said, “That is the nicest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do for a stranger.”

He
smiled again, paused, looked me in the eye, and said, “We’re only strangers until
we meet others. I’ve been incredibly blessed throughout my life and I have
enough. When I see someone with a need, I try to help out. ”

I
said, “Well, you certainly made that man’s day! That’s a terrific way to live.
Thank you!”

Just
then, the flight attendant motioned to us that we could exit. I turned to the
man and wished him a good day and safe journeys. Then I headed up the jetway.

Epilogue

“We’re
only strangers until we meet.”

“I
have enough.”

I
kept thinking about what the man had said. I kept seeing what happened at the
ticket counter and the relieved and excited smile on the Egyptian man’s face
when he realized that someone had come to his rescue.

At a
time when so much of the world is in turmoil, when countries are being torn
apart, when people are being tortured, executed, slaughtered, frequently in the
name of a “religion” that really doesn’t stand for any of that activity; when
politicians in our country call for a lockdown to our borders in an effort to
stop anyone who identifies as a Muslim because “they’re violent”, a single act
such as this just flies in the face of all that is wrong with the world.

A
man from Egypt, (probably a Muslim as they make up 88% of the population) is
trying to get home with things he purchased in this country, and is unable to
do so because he doesn’t have $100 more, a not insignificant sum. A man from
America (maybe a Christian but perhaps not) sees his need as a fellow human
being and fills it for no other reason than he “has enough” himself so, he’ll
help others when he can.

This
is making me look at myself differently. Am I doing enough to help my fellow
man? Do I have enough?

I’m
not going to start handing out $100 bills. I am going to start looking for ways
to support more people, even if it’s just an encouraging word, a gesture, a
compliment, perhaps some money or something that fills a material need.

If
we all did that, just one more time per day than we do currently, can you
imagine all of the good in the world? Evil wouldn’t stand a chance.

There is a line in the Kevin Spacey/Jeff Bridges movie K-Pak when K-Pak says to the Dude's character "Mark, every creature in the universe knows right from wrong..."

Brian, one of the reasons I'm poor is I give so much away. I'm out here on the road almost all the time now and moments like the one in your post come up quite a bit.

A few days ago a girl broke into tears in the checkout at the Winn Dixie because she was three dollars short. Her basket had baby formula and cereal and cheap crappy frozen food and it was pretty easy for me to toss a five on the counter and say "There." I wasn't really being noble...I just wanted to get checked out my ownself so I could get my roasted chicken and deli-baked beans and potato salad and budweiser tall-boys back to the motel so I could pig out and soak my old bones in a hot tub and polish off a pint of rum.

But I get your point. I know you for a good man. I think maybe you just don't live as close to the street as my kind. There is a powerful current of helping each other out going on here on the bottom that the $100.000 dollar a year crowd just never sees...let's face it, you guys don't need much helping each other out.

Dang, man, it sounds like I'm criticizing you or belittling your very good post. I'm not. What I'm doing is thinking out loud and meandering my way to understanding.

I got hung up, I guess, at the "I'm not going to start handing out $100 bills..."

Why not? I do. not all at once, but yeah, strangers get at least a hundred dollars a month from me. Its fun. A ten dollar bill is a fortune to someone who never has money. Usually I say "here, man, have a beer on me."

Whatever. I'm all ripped up this week over Merle dying. We all gotta go sometime, I guess.

Ya know, I think you're right, TJ! I do get some time with the lesser haves (the poolhall seems to have a few) and I'm known to offer an assist to folks. Your story of the Winn Dixie rings true for me, too.

I published this because I'm unaccustomed to seeing we >5%'ers not doing it; sure, we write out checks to our favorite charity and get on with life. But handing out green, to someone who desperately needs it, doesn't happen often enough in the world for us. The change is profound. Writing this caused, I know for sure, behavior changes in a number of people, including me. That is satisfying.

Merle's passing was sad. A bunch of friends posted vids of him and I learned that he was not only a great songwriter and guitar player, he did amazing impressions of his contemporaries and everyone loved them and him! The fact that he made it exactly around the sun one more time and then checked out just seemed right, somehome. He was one of the good ones!

Great story Brian. An event in a life can lead a man to examine himself and his place in world we travel. Not that you or I need prove ourselves and our worth to our humanity but an internal checklist is a good thing every now and then. A few events happened to me this winter that normally would just flow off me like water on the proverbial duck's back. Nothing earth shattering like a family tragedy but just enough to do a little self examination.Your story re-enforces those thoughts. Thanks for sharing.Jim